When Tuesdays Grow Cold
by Rosemont1021
Summary: A short one-shot. On a tired Tuesday sometimes it's nice to have someone make you dinner and keep you warm when Mondays and Tuesdays grow cold. The title was inspired by the late great Etta James.


Buffy walked heavily up the metal stairs to her third floor apartment, the strap from her bag digging painfully into her shoulder. She could see the puffs from her breath lit by the dim yellowed lights in the stairwell. A dull metallic _ping ping_ resonated with each slow booted step and somewhere in the back of her mind she thought she should be worried that she was announcing her presence so plainly. All stealth had eluded her and she only felt fatigue.

_This is what normal people must feel like when climbing stairs_, she thought. _It sucked._

She usually flew up these stairs with hardly an effort, making almost no sound. All senses on alert for any threat, any sound, sight or smell out of place. Right now, though, a simple street thug could attempt to mug her and might even get away with it. She was just too tired to care.

Finally she turned in the switchback stairwell and sighed seeing the last six steps until her landing. She sent up a silent prayer that no last minute threat or disaster would prevent her from making it to her door. It had been known to happen. Tonight, however, she just wouldn't be able to handle it.

There were two apartments on this level and her door was on the right. She struggled to pull her keys from the tight confines of her jeans pocket, her hand barely fitting in. Her fingertips tips pulled on the jagged metal wad and suddenly they tugged sharply free. Her keys were flung to the cement floor, skittering dangerously towards the metal railing where they would plummet back down the three flights Buffy had so recently struggled to climb. She whined in protest as she lunged to stop their progress. Just enough of her slayer speed was left to swiftly stomp her boot on the bundle of keys and prevent them from getting away.

_This is a bad day_, Buffy thought, _a bad, bad, bad day._

She let out an unattractive grunt as she leaned over and picked up her keys. Readjusting the heavy bag on her shoulder and with a firm grip on the keys she approached her door. Something smelled good and her stomach grumbled as she realized how hungry she was. Her neighbor must be cooking dinner. Sliding the key into the lock she looked left then right out of habit and entered, immediately locking it again behind her.

She let out a huge sigh of relief as she dropped the bag from her shoulder. Buffy leaned her back against the door as she kicked off her boots and shrugged off her jacket, nearly falling in an uncoordinated mess as she struggled to get rid of her heavy winter wear all at once. Normally a very tidy girl, Buffy would never allow anyone to leave the clutter at the front door like she just did. But, again, too tired to care.

She padded down the hallway in her stockinged feet and slowly began to realize that the wonderful smell outside her apartment door was becoming more wonderful the closer she got to her kitchen.

As she cleared the hallway and came into view of the kitchen she approached with caution and awe.

There was Faith, with her back to Buffy, bent over the oven checking something inside. Buffy didn't move or make a sound as she watched Faith straighten up, close the oven, and stir something on the stovetop. She was certain Faith knew she was there, they couldn't exactly sneak up on each other, but Faith kept her attention on her task not yet acknowledging Buffy's presence. Faith then turned to the sink and washed her hands. Buffy could now see Faith's profile and half a trademark smirk on her lips.

Drying her hands on a dishtowel she casually slung it over her shoulder and turned to face Buffy.

"Hey," Faith said.

Buffy just looked at Faith, taking in her hair, pulled back into a pony tail, oversized food stained t-shirt, faded, torn blue jeans and bare feet. Faith noticed Buffy's assessment and looked down at herself.

"Yeah, I'm a bit of a mess." She shrugged.

"You're beautiful," Buffy whispered.

Faith just snorted in disbelief. In that moment, to Buffy, she really was beautiful. But then again, maybe she was not the best judge at the moment. She was so hungry and so very tired.

"Are you making me dinner?" Buffy asked with a hint of disbelief in her voice.

"Yeah, B, I am making you dinner," Faith deadpanned back.

Faith seemed to really look at her after that. "Baby, you're a wreck," she then said, with a chuckle.

Buffy whimpered pitifully.

"Awww, come here." Faith walked over and took Buffy in her arms. Buffy just curled into her warmth and sighed. Faith held her and gently rocked her for a moment.

"Here's what I want you to do," Faith said said quietly. "Go take a hot shower, get into your favorite PJ's, and when you come back in here, dinner should be ready. Okay?"

"Yeah," Buffy said muffled against Faith' shoulder.

"Then after dinner we can sit on the couch and you can fall asleep while we watch TV. Sound good?"

"Yeah," Buffy repeated. But she didn't move to leave.

Faith chuckled and pulled gently away. Kissing Buffy on the forehead she then turned her by the shoulders and guided her towards the hallway and the bedrooms.

"Go," she said. "Dinner is almost ready."

Once Buffy seemed to be propelling herself Faith let go and watched her stumble into the bedroom. She wondered if they would even make it through dinner. She kinda hoped so, it was gonna be a good dinner, but B looked so damn tired.

Buffy sat on the end of the bed, towel drying her hair, wearing her favorite pink polka-dot flannel pajamas. She was thinking about the first time Faith had seen them.

"How can you sleep in those, B? They're so loud I'd be afraid they'd keep me awake at night."

Well, she'd learned since then that Faith slept just fine sharing a bed with those polka-dot pajamas. Buffy smiled at the memory as she felt the tension from the day drain away. She was tempted to just lay back and fall asleep but she knew Faith was waiting for her.

Dinner must be out of the oven because the smell was making her stomach rumble and urging her to get moving. Hanging the towel neatly on a hook at the back of the bathroom door she remembered the mess she left in the entry and sighed. She had better pick it up or she'd never hear the end of it from Faith. Buffy felt like she spent half her time in the apartment picking up after Faith and she was not afraid to let her know about it, so for her to leave a mess would take all the power away from her nagging.

She pulled on some thick socks before heading out to the hall. Looking toward the entry she saw immediately that everything had been neatly hung up and put away. She smiled, resigned to the ribbing she was sure to get and fully deserved. So she headed back towards the kitchen and saw that Faith had changed her stained shirt and had actually set the table. She was filling a pair of glasses with wine as Buffy approached.

They almost never used the table to eat, unless friends were over, it was more of a desk most of the time. They usually sat on the stools at the kitchen bar or in front of the TV, if they bothered to sit at all.

As Faith set the bottle on the table Buffy wrapped her arms around her from behind and laid her cheek against her back.

"Thank you," Buffy said.

"For dinner? Sure. It was my turn, I think."

"This is more than just _your turn_ and you know it. Are you trying to butter me up for something? Because right now I'm so in love with you I don't think I could say no to anything."

Faith turned around and put her hand on Buffy's hips.

"Really?" Faith asked hopefully. "How about that bike I've been -"

"No."

Faith just narrowed her eyes for a sec and then chuckled. "Yeah, we'll see."

It was Buffy's turn to narrow her eyes.

"Let's eat, I'm starving," Faith said before they repeated a very old and recurring argument. "Sit down and I'll go load your plate."

Buffy sat with one leg curled under her, took her wine glass and sipped while watching Faith. Plates filled, she returned to the table and placed one in front of Buffy, smiling down at her. Buffy, however, didn't even notice. Her eyes were glued to her dinner. Two thick slabs of roast beef and a pile of mashed potatoes took up most the plate, with garlic steamed broccoli taking up the rest. A pretty simple American dinner and one of Buffy's favorites growing up. But Faith couldn't have known that, unless...

"Did you talk to Dawn today?" Buffy asked, and then took a huge bite of mashed potatoes.

Faith was already shoving a second forkful of food in her mouth and just shrugged. It was a classic Faith non-answer and it usually drove Buffy nuts. Right now however, she was so focused on her food she had forgotten why she even asked.

They were both silent for a while as they ate.

"Faith, this is so good," Buffy finally managed to stop eating long enough to get that out.

That elicited a small smile from Faith but she just shrugged again and said, "Not as good as your mom's, though, I bet."

Buffy stopped eating and slowly put her fork down.

Faith didn't seem to notice. "Sorry there's no gravy, I didn't know how exactly, and didn't want to fuck it up."

She looked up then and noticed Buffy was just staring at her mostly empty plate.

"Yeah, I talked to Dawn today," Faith said quietly.

Buffy didn't have to ask and Faith didn't elaborate. Today was the anniversary of her mom's death and it never got any easier over the years.

She looked up from her plate and into Faith's eyes. "I can show you how to make gravy," her voice thick with emotion.

Faith smiled, "Yeah, okay. Next time."

They finished eating without any further conversation. It was a comfortable silence, though. Faith gathered the plates when they were done.

"Do you want seconds? There's dessert, so maybe you should save room."

"Shut up!" Buffy jumped up excited. "What's for dessert? What is it?"

"Simmer down, spaz," Faith laughed. "It's just ice cream...and pie."

"Pie!" Buffy squealed and Faith actually flinched.

"You seem to have a little more energy, maybe sugar's not such a good idea."

"Don't you dare say pie and then take it back. You baked a pie?" Buffy's expression was pure delight and Faith knew she'd done good.

"Are you fucking kidding me? I didn't bake a pie. But I bought a pretty good one and it's in the oven right now."

"What kind, what kind?"

"Whaddya think?" Faith responded, highly amused. She glanced at the timer to see there was about 20 minutes left.

"Marionberry!" Buffy shouted with glee.

"Yeah, and what the fuck is a Marionberry, anyway? Looks like a plain old blackberry to me. I used to pick them off the side of the highway when I was a kid. Grew like fucking weeds."

"It's not a blackberry, its way better!"

"Whatever. Help me clear the table and put stuff away. You have to earn your pie."

They worked together to get the kitchen clean while the pie finished up. Buffy kept sneaking more bites of food as she put it all away, knowing she'd always have room for pie. It came out of the oven and smelled incredible. Faith practically had to shove Buffy out of the kitchen to save the perfect looking pie from destruction.

"The box said it has to sit for at least 20 minutes, B. Go find something on TV to watch."

"Come on," Buffy whined. "There's nothing on tonight. I can't wait 20 minutes!"

This was an entirely new side to Buffy Faith had never seen before. Dawn had told her she liked pie, and Marionberry was her favorite, but Faith had underestimated how much. Apparently Buffy _really_ liked pie.

"Well, Netflix then. What was that show we started watching? The girl at the gift shop-"

"Wonderfalls! Yeah, good idea."

And she was off. Faith just watched her in amusement, satisfied she'd done a pretty good job distracting her from what this day meant, but not fooled into thinking it was permanent. Faith knew that Buffy's hurt was very close to the surface for the next few days and it could break through at any moment.

The rest of the evening went pretty much according to plan. Pie was eaten, television was watched, and Buffy fell asleep in Faith's arms. The moment she knew she was watching this stupid show by herself, Faith stopped the program and clicked the TV off. As carefully as she could, she secured Buffy in her arms and stood to carry her to their room. A maneuver requiring slayer strength that she took entirely for granted.

"Faith?" Buffy mumbled as she was gently laid onto the bed.

"Yeah, B?"

There was no response as she settled into the pillow, having never really woken up.

Faith quickly got ready for bed and slid carefully in next to Buffy, another day done. As she was settling in and just closing her eyes she heard Buffy again.

"Faith?"

"I'm right here, B. Go to sleep."

Faith watched her girl for a moment, assuring herself that she was still fast asleep. Finally she closed her own eyes and smiled to herself while thinking, _I fucking deserve that bike after tonight, _knowing there was no chance of it ever happening.


End file.
